Mary's Dance at Netherfield
by OccasionallyRestless
Summary: Regency. At the Netherfield Ball, it is finally time for Mary’s dance with Mr Collins. What exactly is going through the least known member of the Bennet family's mind?


**Disclaimer:** everything recognisable belongs to Jane Austen.

**Summary:** Regency. At the Netherfield Ball, it's finally time for Mary's dance with Mr Collins. What exactly is going through her mind?

**A/N: **I don't know if this has been done, but it's something that I've been thinking about for a while. It's my first P&P fic, and I'm nervous about posting it so if there are problems then please be constructive! I'd love to get better at this fandom.

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It was part way through the most pleasant of evenings, and Mr Collins was making his way towards his third eldest cousin with duty in mind. He _had _promised to dance with them all, and as a man of the clergy he could not be found to go back on his word. Having already danced with the two eldest Miss Bennets, he was now crossing the room in hopes of performing his duty to Miss Mary Bennet.

Mary was currently sitting on the side watching her two youngest siblings dance rather wildly in the set. Her mind was occupied in wondering if there was any way she could convince her father, for whom she had the most respect in the family, to leave the assembly early in favour of an evening spent in solitary reading, when a voice interrupted her reverie.

"My dear cousin, Miss Bennet, I would be most exceedingly obliged if you would allow me the honour of claiming your hand for the next dance of the evening. As you may have seen, I have already had the great pleasure of dancing with your fair sisters and have finally reached that point when I am in need of requesting you as my partner, lest we run out of time before supper is brought out. And so, Miss Bennet, will you grace me with your hand?"

Mary barely had time to compose herself in time for the end of his speech as his approaching her had sent her mind into a frenzy of giddiness, a word she had never associated herself with before. Her cousin had finished his application for almost a good half-minute before she was able to reply: "I thank you sir, it would be a pleasure." He bowed deeply and moved off to the side to await the beginning of the next dance.

Mary took this time to fully prepare herself by readying possible topics of conversation – the weather, the assembly, Fordyce's Sermons – but still found her light complexion colouring slightly as Mr Collins came to lead her to the floor. As they took their place in the set, she took a deep breath to try and calm herself, but found her frame tensing as the musicians began to play.

_Compose yourself Mary, _she thought, _or else Mr Collins shall think you a fool._

The dance began and the assembled couples moved in graceful formations, weaving in and out of each other whilst smoothly walking and turning their way down the set. Although Mary did not dance often, she was not unpractised and she was an adequate partner, but every time Mr Collins took her hand as part of the routine Mary experienced a strange tugging sensation in her lower stomach. She thought it may be the effect of the glass of punch she had sipped earlier.

So it was not in this respect that she felt she was disappointing her partner, but rather that neither of them had spoken a word and they had moved a full two places down the row of couples.

As they began the routine a third time, Mary was resolved to speak. And so, as she took her cousin's hand and they moved around each other, she began her question – however Mr Collins had also taken it upon himself to speak at this time, and for a few seconds there was a stilted silence between them in which Mary blushed furiously and Mr Collins smiled self-consciously.

"I apologise, dear cousin - pray, continue! I am sure I will be most interested to hear what you were going to say before I innocently interrupted you."

This statement, which was intended to reassure, made Mary feel all the more pressured to be interesting and intellectual. Determined not to keep him waiting, she replied: "I-I...I was going to ask, sir, how you are enjoying your stay in Hertfordshire?"

She could not have chosen a better topic unless, of course, she had asked of some detail concerning his noble patroness. However her cousin did not seem disappointed with the question, indeed his answer took up the rest of the dance. He praised everything from the ballroom in which they were now dancing, to the roads which, he assured her, were of a much better quality than other small countryside villages he had had the pleasure of visiting. The only trouble was that Mr Collins was so engaged in offering his praises – and Miss Bennet was so engaged in listening to them – that they both often made mistakes in the dance and annoyed several of the couples in the set.

It needn't be said that there was a certain amount of relief among the other dancers when Mr Collins had completed his duty and began to escort his partner from the floor.

It was only as they reached the side of the room and he released her hand that his answer to her early question ceased, and he bowed deeply to her as she responded in kind. He looked up and Mary's heart fluttered at the wide smile that spread across his features.

"I thank you, Miss Bennet, for the pleasure of your company and also for helping me to keep the promise I made to all my dear cousins. I hope the rest of your evening is as enjoyable as mine surely will be," he bowed lowly once more before moving from her and toward the refreshments.

A rare smile graced Mary's features as she sat in the same chair she had previously occupied and thought back on the events of only a few moments ago. Her smile grew at the memory of his hand holding hers, the eager expression that graced his features as he responded to her question and especially his parting words to her:

"_I thank you, Miss Bennet, for the pleasure of your company..."_

This thought carried Mary through the rest of the evening, especially when her father interrupted her exhibit at the piano forte – an act that was aimed at a certain gentleman – and through Lydia's noisy chatter. Indeed, after the Bennet family had returned home, Mary was sitting in her room brushing her hair when this same thought made her pause. The smile she had been wearing earlier lit her features once more, only this time it was not tempered by the presence of others and she allowed her happiness to clearly show.

_Well, _she thought to herself, _that was most pleasing._

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Readers are needed. Reviewers are wanted.


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